


Talking In Circles

by BorgiaBabe



Series: High [4]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Recreational Drug Use, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28572306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorgiaBabe/pseuds/BorgiaBabe
Summary: The One Where Bonnie Goes to Her Therapist.Bonnie sees her therapist less than a week before her first day as a senior at Mystic Falls High. Not that it makes a difference.
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Malachai "Kai" Parker
Series: High [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091318
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Talking In Circles

_"The celestial bodies will always align the way they are supposed to," her mother would tell her in a hushed voice while tucking her in at night. "They will always align; for good, or for bad. For richer times and for poorer times.”_

_“But why?" Bonnie would squeak, her glittering green irises shining in the shadows cast by her night lights, glowing stars that hung from her ceiling. "Why do they keep moving? Why don’t they stay in the sky where they can make everything good, and everyone happy?”_

_Abby would smile every time her daughter would ask, even if it was the first, tenth, twentieth time Bonnie had asked. “Because," and she’d rest her hand on Bonnie’s little chest, as gentle as could be, “even they are under the control of The Great Creator. It uses Its breath," she’d blow a soft, tickling gust of air on her daughter’s face, “Its mind," the pad of a finger tapped to her own temple, "or Its hands," tickling fingers would send little girl giggles into the still air of her bedroom, "to control the planets, and asteroids. Even the stars.”_

_“It controls everything?" Bonnie would ask in awe, every single time_

_ “ Everything .” _

_"Even you and me?”_

"Now,thats where it gets interesting. The Great Creator loves us so much It would never try to control us. But," and she’d tweak her daughter’s nose playfully, a signal the story was coming to an end, “It brings us forth, gives us life; a pure, beautiful life, from the beginning, and lays out paths. And those paths have paths. It gives us infinite paths to walk. Some safe and easy. Some dangerous or hard. Some are somewhere in between. It gives us everything we need, and what we don't. It lets us make the decisions.”

_"But what about things that happen by accident?” Bonnie would ask quietly._

_Abby would pretend to think hard while getting up from her perch by Bonnie’s side on the small pink bed. “Perhaps, they aren’t accidents. Maybe they are lessons. Or,” and she’d lean down to kiss her daughter tenderly on the forehead, “you were merely crossing your path with another’s.”_

_“But,” she’d ask her mother’s retreating back, voice worried. “What about sad accidents?”_

_“Those we can talk about later,” Abby would say serenely, her beautiful smile shining over her shoulder. “Tonight, you’ll only dream about happy things.”_

_“What if I dream about accidents?”_

_“It’ll be ok. But even if you do, they will be the happy accidents. Don’t forget; we will always get to begin anew.”_

—

So which path is she on now? 

It’s the ever present question that permeates Bonnie’s life. She's still as full of questions now at seventeen as she was at six; new questions, old questions- the new quickly turning into the old because it all seems to just pile up these days. Some days are blissful, merciful with the nothingness that passes through her mind. And the other days? Well, they make sure to make up for the brief moments of relief. Pesky things they are, her thoughts; no matter how much she fills up to the brim Bonnie never spills over. 

Well, not in the way people want. 

But it doesn’t matter, she thinks when people look at her, instead choosing to ignore the disappointment etched into the lines of their foreheads and corners of their mouths when they don’t get the answers they seek. 

She just doesn’t know. She can’t answer their questions because she has the same. She can’t answer them because the one person who would answer all of her questions is gone. But despite knowing, they still ask. And they still stare. 

Yeah, she feels the human gaze skittering over her skin a lot, especially these days. Especially in this place.

Currently, her own gaze is fixed on a little bakery across the street, it’s powdery blue awning with gold script proudly proclaiming Twinkle’s Treats. The crystal clear window is thick though, and inside the space she occupies is quiet, all that can be heard are the soft sounds of a hand gliding over paper as it writes. 

“So,” Dr. Ceres says when she’s done writing what she thinks about Bonnie so far today, “have you thought about what we talked about last time? What direction you want to start working towards for after senior year?”

Bonnie keeps looking out of the window, at the people on the street, talking, moving, living. Even the thought of doing something as small as walking down the hallway makes her tired some days. The corner of her mouth quirks up on its own. She knows that what Dr. Ceres really means - what does she want to do with her life in general? And she _has_ thought about it, her mind flittering this way and that, even as she made her way to this office today. Yes, she's thought about it and has come to the solid conclusion that she has no damn idea. 

“No,” she says simply instead, finally pulling her eyes from outside to look at the doctor sitting across from her in the cerulean blue chair that matches her own.

“No?” Dr. Ceres repeats, quietly. “Nothing at all?” She shifts in her seat, brings her hands apart then back together, considering. “It doesn’t have to be a strong a passion. Maybe a fascination with anything in particular? Or even a passing idea that sparks another?” 

“Nope,” Bonnie says again and they both stare at each other. Dr. Ceres reminds her of a wise, old owl who isn’t old yet. Her round face holds even rounder, forest green eyes that blink at you patiently. Waiting, always waiting. And watching. 

Even though the plump smoothness of her face indicates that she’s probably only in her early-thirties there's already a shock of grey hair right beside her left ear. "It’s a birthmark. I adore my patients, but you guys don’t stress me out this badly,” she’d joked when Bonnie first began her sessions and the doctor saw her eyeing it. "Just how The Great Creator designed me,” she’d trilled, smiling mildly.

“So,” she says pulling Bonnie back to the present, “we’re still somewhat foggy on what the near future holds for you. That’s ok,” she scribbles a little more on the pad in her lap, just a word or two, and smiles. “We have a little more time to figure out. A little less if you want to go to college right after graduation, but more if you choose not to. We’ll get there, though.”

Bonnie just nods and wishes there was a clock in the pristine glass and cedar office. ‘ _ Can’t wait out the clock if you can’t focus on it, _ ’ Dr. Ceres’ voice echoes faintly in her mind. 

“How do you feel about not being quite sure yet, with the school year beginning in less than aweek?”

Bonnie shrugs. “Fine. Or maybe I’m not and that’s why I’m not thinking too much about it?” She stays silent for a moment and her therapist waits. “It’s like, do I even care right now?”

Dr. Ceres is quiet but when she realizes Bonnie isn’t going to say more she prods, gently. “Well, do you? Care?”

Now that was the money question. The obvious answer is ‘yes, of course she does.’ She’s here, isn’t she? Going through all of this poking, and prodding. Failing every Manifestation attempt over and over. Walking down these chilly, sterile long hallways more than half of the week for session, after session, after session of endless talking that gets them nowhere.

She should say yes, of course she cares. Then they could move forward - she can maybe get another signature and her father will be happy. He’ll feel like she’s making progress and then she can stop spending what feels like nearly every waking moment here. 

She _should_ say yes…

“Bonnie?” Gently, but Dr. Ceres is always gentle.

She opens her mouth to say she’s fine and yes, she does care when suddenly Bonnie’s mouth begins to water and she feels the familiar sensation of nausea rolling in her gut. She swallows hard against the feeling.

“Bonnie?”

Behind her eyes are going to start to ache soon. She closes her eyes and rubs a clammy palm roughly over her face. 

She should just say _yes_.

“Are you ok-?”

“No,” she says abruptly, so suddenly irate Dr. Ceres doesn’t even blink. Her palms begin to sweat. "I don’t care,” she snaps. “I don’t care about anything right now. I don’t even care about this. It’s a waste of time.”

Dr. Ceres looks at her for a long moment, a moment that feels like eternity and just as she anticipated the expected pain in her temples shows up. She needs to get out of here,  _ now_.

And it looks like The Great Creator hears her plea and answers it for once because a few seconds later she’s jolting a little at the sound of a timer going off, just a soft ding from the corner of the room. She grabs her faded, maroon bag and throws it over she shoulder, ignoring the faint tremor in her hands. Dr. Ceres is watching her closely. 

"Looks like our time is up,” Bonnie says as she strides quickly for the closed door. She doesn’t have to look back to know her doctor is probably scribbling like mad. 

But she couldn’t care less. Not right now. 

She doesn’t get a signature for that day. 

Big fucking surprise. 

—

“Bonneriffic." She grins at Jamie, rolling her eyes at the childhood nickname and pushes gently past him when he steps to the side to let her into his place. She was actually surprised when he'd texted her back he was here in Mystic instead of at Whitmore. He spends most of his time on campus when they aren't hanging out. It's mostly used as a party house now.  _ Inheritance well used_, she thinks sarcastically for what must be the hundredth time.

"It's meee," she sing songs, collapsing onto the well worn blue couch. "You got the good stuff?" she jokes.

"For you? Never," but he grins even as he says it and disappears off into another section of the house. The old singing fish on the wall is stuck in its outward position, mouth wide, mid song as usual and while nothing in the dark living room is dirty, it sure isn't clean. 

She idly wonders how many people have hooked up on this couch. 

A generous baggy full of tight,green flowers falls into her lap and she forgets trampled wooden floors underneath questionably stained couches and smiles. It  _ is _ the good stuff. Before she even opens the seal, the aroma of the buds bleeds through the plastic. Faint purple and red smoke swirls out of the bag, silver sparkles curling into the strands of her hair and wafting into her nostrils when she opens it. Yeah this is  _ really _ good.

"Oooh this is different. What'd you do this time?"

"That's how you lose business, girl" Jamie laughs. "You don't give up the recipes."

"Even to people who can't perform for shit?" She holds her right hand up to show a spark of absolutely nothing coming from her fingertips. She says it jokingly, but his eyes, identical to her own, still gets that glint of something she hates. She wishes being Intercepted didn't stick out so much. Not that it matters at the end of the day; she’s been in Mystic Falls her entire life. They all have. She’s daughter to the late great Sheila Bennett and flawless Abby Bennett Wilson and everyone knows that despite this she still managed to come out a dud.

Bonnie ignores the pity in his eyes (because that's what that look is, pity, she's seen it enough to know) and keeps her tone light. "Or, you're afraid I'll give your secrets away to the up and coming weed men?" she laughs and pulls out a pack of Ascendent cigars, rips it open, pulls one out, and starts to break the leaf down.

"Hah!" he leans back in the chair he sits in across from her and puts his feet up on the dirty table. There's nothing actually on it except an old beer bottle and a few ashtrays. But the ash from blunts, cigarettes, and only the Universe knows whatever else is rubbed into the grain of the wood so deeply there's no cleaning it off. "They can't even touch me. My infusions can't be replicated."

"You're not the only one who can do herbal magic," she chides as she breaks the flower down with her fingers next. "Watch someone else come on the scene and take all your clientele."

"Nah, not all of them. I know you'll stick with me."

"Only because our mommies made us be best friends before we could talk and it stuck," she teases. They smile at each other for a moment, but she knows it's not just his familiar warmth that's making her feel anything good right now - her hands on sticky, fragrant buds of magically infused flower has always calmed her racing pulse. But this, being in his orbit is always nice. It's always calming, smiling into his green, deep, almond shaped eyes that mirror her own.

("Thats how you know the charts are true,"  _ he'd whispered to her three years ago in Astrology class, partners and bent over their composite chart _ _._ "North Node in 7th, baby. You were probably my sister. Or my murderer. Or my cat. Probably all three."  _ She'd snorted a laugh and flicked her eyes over to Mrs. Ginger. The teacher had been otherwise preoccupied with Kat and Kai, Kat rolling her eyes and Kai's back to Kat like she wasn't even there. Jamie continued_ _._ "Who else has eyes like ours?"

"Literally hundreds of people."

"Lies. Your Taurus Mercury is showing it's shadow side. Lighten up,"  _ she'd laughed again and he joined in that time_ _._ "Seriously, it’s a sign. You're my  _ literal _ soul sister."  _ He'd leaned all the way in, pressing his face against her cheek to whisper in her ear_, "It's all in the eyes."  _They'd both busted out laughing at that moment and Mrs. Ginger didn't even have time to break it up because the bell signaling classes were over rang just in time_.)

"Anyway," she says as she finishes breaking down the buds and starts to roll it all up in the Ascendent. "What the hell have you been up to? You're about to start hurting my feelings. You only wanna see me when you want to take my money while I smoke you out.”

Jamie laughs. "Technically, _I_ smoke you out. When's the last time I touched a single green bill from you, hm?" Bonnie grins, licking the leaf closed, but says nothing. "But to be honest, not shit. The same stuff- chilling, pre-reading for school. I stared at a diagram of all the veins in the head for an hour and couldn't remember shit, so I'm probably going to fail Anatomy." He shrugs, thinking. "Oh, I found a little baddie I was fucking with for a couple of weeks; turns out she just wanted to make an Aquarius dude pay her some more attention."

"Ah." Enough said. That's why Bonnie doesn't mess around with Air signs too heavy - the only way to get them to notice you is to play games. And you never quite knew what game it was going to be. "You need to stop messing with these Geminis," she says, huffing out a little laugh.

"Who said it was a Gemini?" He grins, both of them knowing she’s guessed correctly. Bonnie lights up the blunt, inhales, and...yea, Jamie really did his thing this time. It feels like every single care she's ever had in life has never even existed, if only for a couple of moments. The high doesn't peak for very long-only about twenty seconds after each pull, but it feels so good she actually moans a little and lets herself slump down further into the cushions after passing it to him.

"Who else plays those types of games besides a Gemini?"

"Me."

"Proclaims the Gemini Venus." Jamie closes his eyes at that and just shrugs, lids fluttering when he inhales. Even through the more settled, high state of her mind she feels a stab of jealousy through it all - if she could do what she was born to do then she could grow and infuse like this, the very same thing. Probably even better with her lineage. She'd be sky high, all the time.

_But if you could create it would you feel the need to use it?_ Dr. Ceres' voice shimmers in her mind.

 _Yeah I would_ ,  she answers back and all Doc does in her mind's eye is peer at her, nodding, before jotting that down too.

"How was it today?" Jamie asks. 

"Fine, I guess.” Bonnie shrugs “Just talking. A lot of hows; How are you feeling? How do you see yourself? How does it feel when I poke you like this? How do you react to this? How many degrees away were we  _really_ from Kevin Bacon?"

"Four."

"Eight. He was never  that  accessible." She takes the blunt back from him. She inhales and speaks, lungs still full. "Anyway," she breathes out, "it's all the same stuff, all the time." She inhales again, quickly and deeply, the cherry rushing towards her fingers, not quite touching them yet. "I just want my fucking signatures so I can be done." She coughs hard on this exhale, but still talks around it. "It's pointless. It's not going to work."

"C'mon Bonnie," Jamie says and takes the blunt back. "It's worked. It worked for Olivia."

"That girl is a _Parker_ who’s one degree off and you know it." Bonnie says, 'I'm twenty nine."

"The Critical Degree," he says in a deep, mock commanding voice. "Thee  Fated Degree."

"Yeah, shit is really critical over this way," she answers, half kidding, and shifts to sit up straighter. Jamie is ashing the blunt andputting it out. It's nearly gone, but Bonnie still puts the rest in the baggie anyway. She stuffs it all in her satchel and rises. "Critically Fated - I trademark that as a band name.” 

Jamie gets up too and wraps his arm around her neck, making Bonnie hunch, anticipating a hair ruffle. Instead, he presses his mouth to her crown and says, "you know that's not how that works." She wriggles out from underneath his arm and turns to walk backwards down the hallway, smiling and shooting out a teasing, "fuck Numerology,” knowing it was his best subject in high school. Aware it has nothing to do with her degrees in this instance. 

He reaches around her to open the front door and pushes the storm door open so she can walk outside and down the porch, still backwards. He grins, "Yeah, yeah. Fuck you too." His white teeth are vibrant against his light caramel skin when he laughs at her for shooting him matching middle fingers and finally turns to walk across his lawn, adding grass stains to her already dirty white canvas sneakers.

"Love you," she calls, not turning around, instead looking both ways to see if it's ok to cross the street.

"Love you, too," he calls back and it's when she's skipped safely to the other side of the road she hears the storm door slam shut and his front door creaking closed to let himself back in the house.

**Author's Note:**

> More Bonnie/Kai one and one interactions in the next couple of chapters.


End file.
